Danger Days
by ThreeBulletsAtTheDangerParade
Summary: After finding the body of a Drac, gun-less and sporting injuries the Killjoys had never seen before, the boys are hell bent on finding the culprit, especially Party Poison. Bl/ind have new rayguns and they have fallen into the hands of an unknown rogue, putting the Killjoys on edge. All the while Party has to fight the monster he's slowly becoming, save Missile, and find the rogue.
1. Look Alive Sunshine

Chapter 1. _Look Alive Sunshine_.

"T'at's it for today's transmission, Tumbleweeds. T'is has been Dr. Death Defying. Signing off." The man removed the headset before turned his eyes back to the screen.

The dark haired man ran a withered hand through his beard, his eyes narrowed and his forehead scrunched in thought. He analyzed the glowing screen, concern lacing his features, from his pressed lips to the crease in his forehead. All the evidence pointed to one thing but who was doing it? It wasn't good, that was for sure, this could be seriously dangerous for their home, headquarters, missions and to their lives.

There wasn't much he could do to stop it, it looked like whoever was intercepting them could easily just work around any protection and continue to listen in on the Killjoy's plans. But the question was who was it? If it was Bl/ind or Dracs, they were screwed. But how would Bl/ind get a hold of their transmissions? Dr. Death Defying was certain that the guards, walls and protection programs in the computers and radios were able to hold their own against such advanced technology. But maybe that was it. The Killjoys communicated by hacking Dr. D's transmissions with old, early 2000, technology, so what if Bl/ind had figured it out? What if they found the station and used old hacking devices to get a hold of the Zones?

But how would they have known? They wouldn't have. Dr. D hoped that it was just some malfunction, unrealistic, but he's pulling at strings here, or maybe some kid was in desert, trying to find the Killjoys. Maybe someone was looking to join or at least escape Bl/ind and the Dracs. Looking up to the ceiling, Dr. Death shut his eyes and sent a quick prayer, pleading with who ever was up there that Bl/ind hadn't hacked them. The old DJ wasn't a religious man, but he made it a point to pray when shit might be going down. And it was a pretty good stress-reliever, something needed on a daily basis when dealing with the Killjoys, Bl/ind, Show Pony, and Missile Kid and anyone else in the desert.

_Grown men my ass._ He snarked. _More like colorful children who can drive. With guns._ But, he also knew that if someone would be able to bring down Bl/ind it would be those four. Or they'd die trying.

He sent another wary look at the silver screen and sighed. It was futile, but he'd make sure to tell the Killjoys to leave more cryptic messages from now on. He shut down the computer in time to hear the loud roar of the boy's Trans Am outside the safe house. Back from the evening patrol already.

Slowly, he made his way down from the attic-turned-studio and was greeted with the loud chatter of the Killjoys. Missile Kid was giggling and bouncing around, glad to have the boys back. Show Pony just laughed and teasingly flirting with them. Jet, the only one who wasn't used to Show Pony's methods, still looked uncomfortable, making him target number uno. Surprising he wasn't used to the teen yet when he spent all his time with the rest of gang, especially Party and Ghoul.

But Dr. D had to hand it to Jet Star, the guy was a lot more sensible than the rest of his 'brothers'. He was also one of stronger Killjoys and the only one to routinely workout. The afro-wielding-white-man was the muscle of the group.

Jet cast the Doctor a weak smile before yelping and scooting away from Show. Show giggled and ran a hand down Jet's arm, causing Jet to back away again but the gay teen only stepped closer, giggling still. The DJ let his eyes travel to the other members of The Fabulous Killjoys.

The Kobra Kid was leaning against the door frame that led into the kitchen, watching the others interact with the barest trance of a smile on his lips. Kobra was definitely the brains of the operation, behind the Doctor of course, and was the most level-headed one. He managed to keep some of the strongest and coldest poker-faces the Doctor had seen. He was the complete opposite of his brother. In character and appearance.

Fun Ghoul was their 'Little Ball Of Fury' and he proudly lived up to the name. A grown man that was only 5'4", laced with tattoos, and had the quickest temper out of all the Killjoys, but he was also the easiest to distract and calm down. And most of the time, Ghoul was the happy-go-lucky one.

And then there's Party Poison, the leader of the Fabulous Killjoys and brother to Kobra. He was at times one of the easiest, quick-witted, and charming of the Killjoys to be around. He wasn't the quickest to anger, he didn't judge, and he wore his heart of his sleeve, but damn. When the redhead got angry, well, you better hope he wasn't angry at you. His rants could stretch on for hours and his was a beast in a fight, he not only knew how to throw a punch but he is also the best shot out of all the Killjoys. Not to mention agonizingly, teasingly arrogant.

Together the four of them were a force to be reckoned with and that was why Dr. Death was willing to bet they would be the death of Bl/ind, and it seemed, Bl/ind knew that too.

Missile Kid was now in Party's arms, giggling and laughing away. The redhead grinned and poked her nose gently causing to start laughing all over again. It felt good to see the Killjoys actually enjoying themselves and hearing Missile Kid laugh, especially in a time like this. The Doctor let this thoughts wonder as the boys pulled out the cans of food and placed them on the table, he let them wonder back to a time when the world was free, back when the USA was in power and everyone had the right to their 'God given principles', back when music and color and life were allowed. To a time when Better Living, or more commonly known as Bl/ind, didn't rule the last of the human race.

He missed his city. Missile Kid was too young to remember the world before Bl/ind but the Doctor knew the boys remembered. If he recalled it right, they were in some big rock band and there had been five of them. But then disaster struck, the world was up in flames, and only a measly population of survivors came through. Including four of the five band members. Only one million out of the entire world lived. And then, when things couldn't seem to get worse, the new Chinese government rose from the ashes and created Battery City where Los Angeles once stood. And Better Living ruled, turning the once free country into a bleached-out lie of a utopia. The people needed something, so many signed up for the new world, signed up for a new life. But there were few who saw the flaws and ran away, finding refuge in the desert.

He looked at the curly haired eight year old sitting next to Party and smiled fondly. She had become like a daughter and sister to all of them and they would all risk their lives for her. And she had no clue about the power she had over any of them. He could remember the day he found her, a young toddler, alone in what was left of a 7-11, and crying out for her mommy. The Doctor picked her up and took her with him back to the safe house where he had been living recently with a group of young boys.

"Dr. D, dude. Dr. Death Defying!" He was snapped out of his reminiscing by Ghoul yelling at him. The Doctor scowled but Ghoul only grinned cheekily. "We've been calling your name for a while now." He said. "But, fuc-geez, man. I knew you were old but I didn't think you were getting that old." Ghoul cast a quick look at Missile to make sure she didn't catch his slip up, but continued to grin smugly. The Doctor narrowed his eyes and, as quick as lightning, brought out his ray gun and fired the beam right next to the young Killjoy's head.

Ghoul froze, his smile dropping instantly. The Doctor grinned wolfishly, "Ol' man, 'uh? Well let me show ya 'Ol' Man.'" He rumbled out, letting his teeth, yellowed from years of smoking, peek through. He clutched the trigger again and aimed it at Ghoul's head. Ghoul laughed nervously, looking rather pale, and gulped while the rest of the table laughed at his expense. Missile giggled, though it was clear, she didn't know what was going on. The Doctor trained his gun onto Party,

"What about ya, pretty boy? Tink an' ol' man like me couldn't take ya out?" The Doctor had to hand it to the redhead, losing his cool in the face of danger and death, wasn't apart of his forte. Party smiled charmingly,

"I know you could _try_ and take me out, but i've a couple of my own tricks." The leader smirked. "Old man." But he was one cocky son-of-a-bitch when it came down to it. Dr. Death growled but put the gun away. Party only let his grin grow. But the Doctor wasn't done yet, he snatched a knife off of the table and launched it into the air letting it slide right past the redhead's face. But Party just ignored the blade and used his napkin to wipe off some of the food from Missile's face. He flashed the DJ a cocky wink.

He might not like to admit it, even to himself, but he couldn't deny the guy had balls.

The Doctor scowled but changed the direction of the conversation. "Anyt'ing happen today on patrol?" Normally nothing seemed to happen when they were out, maybe a Drac fight or two but nothing major or worth fusing over.

"Actually, yeah." Party stated, his cocky attitude gone and was replaced by his all business-leader look. "I mean, not really, but... well just hear me out." The Doctor nodded. "There was a Drac, we actually ran over it without knowing it, out by the boarder of Zone 5. When we went to inspect it, it was dead. We figured we had killed it until we noticed the ray-beam injury in the center of it's chest. From the place and everything we concluded that it was either killed by another rebel or maybe it was suicidal, or hell maybe the others turned on it." Party paused with a shrug. "We figured we'd send out a message to the other Zones, asking if anyone shot a Drac. Not really surprising but..."

Kobra picked up after breaking away from staring at his fork and empty plate. "Something about it wasn't right. The injury was different than what you normally see in ray-induced burns. It seemed to have almost cleanly shot a hole through the body." The Doctor was convinced that was the most he had heard Kobra say at once. But he leaned back and took in the information.

"Could have been new technology." Jet suggested and Ghoul nodded his agreement. The DJ was inclined to agree.

He nodded and let his fingers run through his beard like he did when he was deep in thought. "T'at's a high possibility." He noted, his voice grave and raspy. "But if it was, then why was it used on a Drac and, as horrible as t'is sounds, why not on a rebel? Why waste men? Not t'at they care, but it is a question."

"Maybe someone stole the gun?" Ghoul offered. The Doctor nodded again.

"Maybe..." He cleared his throat. "But I have one last thing for ya, boys. Keep yer transmission messages more cryptic, if ya have to use them at all." The Killjoys looked at him questioningly. He offered a weak grin, "Just an extra precaution. I'm not going to go into details, t'ere's too much still unknown, but I t'ink someone might be hacking the radio show. Whet'er its Bl/ind or someone else, I'm not sure. Just... just be secretive." The Doctor stood up, his still full plate in hand, "I'm going to finish t'is upstairs an' tomorrow morning I'll send out a message asking the Zones for a new kind of ray-gun." He faced Missile. "Hun, it's bedtime, ya can play with the boys tomorrow."

Missile pouted, but followed the DJ out of the kitchen and upstairs to her small room, leaving the Killjoys and Show to converse together.

**End of chapter one. Kinda boring but it'll liven it's self up. Eventually. Part one of a five part series has now been started. Care hangout for the rest of the ride?**

**Later Tumbleweeds.**

**TBATDP, Out.**


	2. Tell Me I'm A Bad Bad Bad Bad Man

Chapter 2. _Tell Me I'm A Bad Bad Bad Bad Man... _

After the new Killjoy song rapped up, the Doctor cleared his throat. The headset was ready and the radio station was a go. A new transmission statement for the masses. A new warning to the rebels.

"Yer here with me: Dr. Death Defying, rock'n'rollers, for the morning show. Ya all holdin' up out there? Dracs are still as dumb as ever... dumb enough to lay in the middle of the desert road out by Zone 5 apparently. My boys, yesterday, found somet'ing interestin' though. A different-"

Scene Change:

"_A different kinda raygun burn... Hell, it wasn't a burn, it was a fucking hole, clean through the white suit and pale body of the Drac. A new kind of raygun perhaps? If ya've got any ideas, send us the word... New beams would be helpful out here, besides the sun-produced ones..." _The old man stopped to chuckle.

The girl, Riot Child as she dubbed herself, smirked. A different kind of gun, eh? The girl turned the white raygun over in her hands. She hadn't inspected the body of the Drac after killing it... Maybe she hadn't been imagining that the gun was lighter, quicker, and stronger after all. It definitely had more of a kick when she used it. A new kind of raygun... She liked the sound of that.

She tuned back into 'Dr. Death Defying.' _"-but it's better to know, safer for all of us rebels out in the great desert, if the gun was in one of our hands. Not a Drac and not a rogue." _He paused again, as if there was something else he might say, but decided against it when he continued with the normal sign-off.

To anyone, the pause between the old man's comment about the rogue and his goodbye, could have meant nothing. A simple recollecting of thoughts from the older man. Nothing more, nothing less. Most probably didn't notice and if they did, they most likely thought nothing of it. The Killjoys might've noticed. Riot had to give the four props, they were a lot more observant and smarter than they acted or looked. Even if she didn't like them, she couldn't deny them of that.

But Riot understood the pause. She had to: it was the trigger, the message, the tip-off, she had been waiting for in all those lonely hours of waiting for the transmissions to start. The DJ was old, but he was smart. He was bound to notice an extra listener. She just needed to know when. And now she knew.

She leaned back and smiled. So her plan could begin: Operation getting the Killjoys to either get off their asses and do something or fuck the hell off, was a go.

It wasn't that she was against the Killjoys, really she was fighting for the same cause as they were: down with Better Living, but they hadn't done anything other than fight the Dracs in the desert. She bet they hadn't even stepped foot inside Battery City. If they were fighting, then _why weren't _they fighting?

Though... She craned her neck towards the old radio, soft rock music flooded through. They made some pretty damn good music. And for that she was grateful.

Back To The Killjoy Headquarters:

"I don't know, Party, I mean a rogue could be a good thing. They're neutral, but clearly they must have something against Bl/ind, killing a Drac and all-" Ghoul and Party had been conversing the theories of a new ally or enemy all morning. And so far anything the younger man had said had been quickly demolished.

"Self defense." Party, once again, shot down all of Ghoul's theories easily. "A rogue usually wants to keep secret, to stay in shadows and out of sight. They need to wait it out for the perfect time to strike. The Drac not only threatened their life but their secretary. That's a big no-no." He explained to his scowling friend. "Besides, a rogue is a rogue, when the going gets tough they join the winning side or step in and earn it all, taking everyone out. Rogues, even if they are against Bl/ind, can't be trusted."

Ghoul hated it when Party was right. "But... OK, what happens then if we run into this rogue?"

Party scrunched his eyebrows in thought. "Confiscate anything that could be used as a weapon and destroy any way of communication or connection to the transmissions, then send them on their merry way. If push comes to shove, end it. We don't need a loss cannon." Party's normally happy and mischievous hazel-green eyes had become stoney and cold. Distant even. And Ghoul didn't like it. Not one of the other Killjoys did. It seemed the more they were in the desert, the more they were hiding, the colder and less like himself, Party became. He at times was cunning, deceiving, and even ruthless. He hit every mark with the enemy and did it without remorse.

He wasn't Gerard Way any more, that was for sure. The only time anyone saw a glimpse of the old rock-star was when they were making new music. But even then, things seemed to have taken a darker turn, everything became angrier, more realistic, more political, and it was slowly losing it's fun too.

Ghoul wasn't sure what scared him more, losing to Bl/ind or losing Gerard. But Ghoul knew it was hard on their leader, he had a stressful job, he called the shots and each move he made could lead to the death of another team member, another Killjoy, another brother. The Killjoys know that it was hard for him, he was after all, the one who watched helplessly as their beloved drummer was burned to death in the acid rain. It shook him to the core, much like watching 9-11, but this time Gerard didn't recover and the nightmare didn't seem to end. There was no light at the end of the tunnel this time.

The boys could only hope that Gerard would come back, but it seemed that everyday he was less and less the leader of the Black Parade, the victorious vampire and vampire slayer. The leader and conductor of the MCR-my. Maybe after this whole thing blows over...

It was thoughts like that though that Ghoul banished from his mind as quickly as possible. Thoughts like that were incredibly unrealistic. Because this wasn't going to just blow over, there was going to be war, if they even live to get that far, and war changes people. And Gerard, _Party Poison,_ couldn't afford to lose anymore of himself. Not that seemed a problem to the man himself.

"What if..." Ghoul's voice was low and quiet, much so that Party had to lean forward to hear him. "What if the rogue was, _is_, a _fan_..." It was dangerous territory, Ghoul knew that, but he couldn't help himself. The fans had been their little children, their brothers and sisters, their family. Ghoul wondered about every Drac they killed, _Were they a fan? Did they once listen to our music? Did they look up to us? _Sometimes Ghoul thought himself the monster. He'd sometimes convince himself that it _had_ been a fan, someone who once held up a sign in the middle of a packed, sweaty room that read "MCR SAVED MY LIFE!" And now MCR had taken it too.

Party, however, didn't seem to have these problems, or maybe he did, he just didn't show it. Sometimes the Killjoys figured Gerard had the best poker face out of all of them. He wore his heart on his sleeve, he was out there, he could easily hide behind the front.

Party Poison froze, and for a hopeful moment, remorse, angst, shame, and self-disgust flashed in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came. He turned away from his dark haired friend, his voice muffled, but devoid of all emotion.

"I can't afford to think that way."

Ghoul didn't want to believe those words had actually escaped the same lips that once screamed and sang for those kids. Gerard treasured his fans, he absolutely adored them, and he had once seemed ready to give his life away for them. But things had changed, times had changed, and Gerard had changed. Suddenly any prospect of Gerard returning to Gerard seemed light-years away. Like a faded, pleasant dream you tried to grasp only to forget more of it.

The words left a bitter taste on Party's tongue. He couldn't believe he had said that. But... what else was he supposed to say? Bl/ind needed to go and... and even if it cost him his humanity and sanity, he was going to end the tyranny once and for all.

Before anything else could be said between the two, if anything else could be said, the Doctor stumbled down the stairs.

"Well... It's been announced. So far only confusion has come through..." He trailed off, taking in the sight before him. Ghoul looked like a kicked, stray puppy and Party was wiped of all signs of emotion, but the Doctor could see the faint line of blood running from his clenched fist, the light press in his lips, and soft flicker in his eyes.

Party looked the DJ straight in the eye intensely before turning away. "Excellent." He mumbled. "Keep us updated... I'm going for a spin."

The older man began to protest. "Listen here, hot-shot, with the new threat... Ya need to bring someone else-"

Party snagged his jacket and opened the door before turning to face the Doctor. "I said." His voice was raspy with barely controlled rage and his eyes seemed to burn holes into Dr. D's flesh. Hell was afire in those eyes. "I'm going for a spin."

And with that the leader slammed the door and after a few moments the loud roar of the Trans Am engine erupted to life followed by the screech of tires.

"He's Poison alrigh'." The Doctor muttered darkly. "But I don't t'ink we have much of an antidote."

**And scene. Kinda boring, but an important chapter. And I need to clear a few things up: One, I said Bl/ind was Chinese, but it's actually Japanese (thank you PartyGhoul, for pointing that out, and thanks for the review!). Oops. Next, if you read the AN at the end of chapter one, I said it was part one of a five part series, well I lied, it's a SIX part series. Talk about a project. **

**Updates will be, hopefully, every Friday or Saturday or Sunday. Don't quote me, but I'll try my best.**

**Until next time, Crashqueens,**

**TBATDP**


	3. Who Gives A Damn If We Win The War?

Chapter 3. _Who Gives A Damn If We Lose The War?_

When Party got back later that night, he was drenched in sweat and his breathe ragged. He had driven the Trans Am to the brink of a breakdown. He scoped the entire known part of desert and even the unknown just for the sake of, 'You never know.' He ran into two Dracs in total, monumentally, the probably lowest amount of Dracs in the whole of the Zones. However he did see two more dead Dracs, but only one of them, this time outside of Zone 3, had the new markings.

While Party had been blowing off steam, and he had been patrolling, he had found himself mainly concerned with the rogue. He kept an eye out for anyone he didn't recognize or a lone. But he hadn't seen a single rebel.

It was then, even in the wide open space, with the warm desert air swirling around him as he pressed the pedal farther, the clear sky, and open land, he felt claustrophobic. He couldn't breathe, his lungs were screaming for oxygen, his hands had gripped his throat, hoping to relieve himself of whatever was stopping the oxygen flow. The guilt of his earlier conversation with Ghoul was crushing, but he forced himself to find justice and right in his words, no matter how foolish and far-fetched the idea. Anything that could justify the death of his fans at his own hand.

He came up with two: Bl/ind needed to go and... Well, he was still working on that one.

He did, however, manage to try and relieve some of his stress as he zoomed through the desert, kicking up dust and sand as he went. It had been exhilarating to watch the sand fly up behind him in a great big chaotic storm. But Gerard had been brought up to look for the double meaning everything. And suddenly the sandstorm looked like a wasteland created only by himself as he thundered on through, dead-set on his mission to end Better Living. But when he tried to ignore it, his eyes glued to the space in front of him, the more the hidden message became clear.

He was running faster and faster, leaving only destruction in his wake, his eyes only trained in front of him. And when he screeched to a stop, the grime and sand caught up with him and threatened to suffocate him.

So what was he supposed to do? He couldn't stop or slow down, he had to keep running and never look back. He had to. But... if he didn't stop he would be destroying everything behind him, everything he was working to preserve and save. If they won the war, what would it cost? Would it even be worth it?

But he couldn't stop, he didn't know how, and he was hell-bend on finishing it. He was stuck in the middle and all he could do was hope and fucking pray that everything worked out right in the end. Gerard would've killed to have a God watching over him, but at the same time he didn't want anyone to see the monster he was becoming.

So he sped on and turned a blind eye.

Needless to say, Kobra had not been pleased with his brother's all-day-escapade. No, not at all. Party may have been older, but that didn't stop Kobra from having a go at his throat.

"You. Fucking. Idiot. Who. The. Fuck. Do. You. Think. You. Are? Fucking _Superman_?" Kobra fumed. "You could've been fucking killed you little motherfucker! I could kill you! Fucking hell!" Jet had already taken up the role of plugging little Missile's ears, but that didn't stop him from giving the brothers a look of amusement. Unknowingly, he had just brought Kobra's wrath onto himself.

"You think this is fucking hilarious, don't you Jet-fucking-Star." Said person, yelped when Kobra turned on him, infuriating the youngest even more. "Fucking-ha-ha-"

Party took this time breath out a sigh of relief. Now, how to escape...

"Don't you fucking go anywhere, Gerard!" As soon as the words were out of his mouth everyone in the room froze. MIssile Kid, who was completely unaware of what had just happened, removed Ray's hands and excused her self to go potty. And then she skipped out of the room singing, 'fuck, oh, fuck! Fuckity, fuck fuck! I don't know know what it means, but FUCK!'

Jet muttered. "I better go fix that..." And this time Kobra agreed. They did not need the Doctor or Show Pony coming after them when Missile Kid went around the house singing her new song. Kobra scowled but left him alone.

Party ran a hand through his hair and let out an exasperated sigh. "I just had to get out OK? I needed to get away." He gestured around the room, tiredly. "I needed a breather from all of this..." Kobra was shocked, looking at the wary form of his older brother. He suddenly looked twenty years older, worn, withered, and broken. But he looked the most like Gerard in a long, long time.

Kobra relaxed his form, his voice going soft. "I know, Gee, I know... This is hard, extremely hard, trust me I know. You have the toughest job, I get that, we all get that. We all need a break from this life once in a while, but..." Kobra's throat began to close, and he struggled to clear it. "But, Gee, what would've happened had you been killed? Gerard... I can't do this without you. None of us can. So please, _please_, save us the heartbreak and worry of 'what if's' and stay safe."

Party wavered. "Ko-Mikey, I'm sorry. I just-I just really needed that. But you have to understand, I'll never be safe, you'll never be safe, the whole fucking _safe house_ will never be safe. And that's just the way it is."

Mikey shook his head. "I know, just... Just try, OK?" He let his lips curve into a small, wry smile. "Besides, Bl/ind's lives would be so much easier without you here. And we can't have that."

Party smiled, small but genuine. "No," He agreed. "We can't have that at all." Mikey noticed Gerard looked like he was going to say something, but decided against it. It stung Mikey, but he knew that this wasn't the same man he once knew. But he would wait a million life times for Gerard to come home. He smiled sadly as his brother retreated up the stairs, muttering about making up with Ghoul. _Whatever it takes, Gee, whatever it takes. I'll bring you home. _

Party took a deep breath before lightly tapping on Ghoul's door. The said man grunted from behind the door and Party took that as his cue. Quietly he peaked his head in to see Ghoul laying on his head and tossing a small ball up into the air before catching it again and repeating the motion. Party cleared his throat.

"Oh." Ghoul scowled. "It's you."

Party gave him a weak smile but entered into his room anyways. He ignored the glare Ghoul was sending him and sat down at the foot of his bed. After a few awkward moments, the redhead cleared his throat.

"I remember that shirt." Party began. "It was the first Smashing Pumpkins concert we all went and saw together." Ghoul grunted again, but his cold behavior was ruined by the small smile on his lips as he remember the memory. "And you were too short to see over everyone, so Ray and I had to lift you onto our shoulders, cause at the time Bob wasn't used to us and Mikey was still a skinny little awkward baby boy." Party's voice caught at the mention of the drummer's name, but he pressed on anyways. Ghoul also winced, as he forced himself to remember the blonde.

"Mikey was such a dork." Ghoul laughed. Party joined in and the two of them replied together:

"And still is."

Ghoul took in a deep breath. "You know sometimes I wonder... How would life be, as the Killjoys anyways, if Bob was still here?" Party nodded, trying to ignore the sadness and regret gnawing at his stomach.

"Different, probably." He answered. Ghoul grunted in agreement,

"Yeah, but how different? Would being a Killjoy be as bad as it seems at times if he was still here?"

Party sighed. "Probably not. It would be hard, yes." He amended. "But the five of us had a knack for forgetting the bad and making the most of it." The two chuckled.

"Yeah we did." Ghoul smirked. The two best friends grinned and lost themselves in the memories. Back when life was worth living. Back when they lived life because they wanted to live, back when they lived for themselves and no one else. Back before the future of the world rest on their shoulders.

Party opened his mouth to say something but closed it. Ghoul lift an eyebrow but Party waved him off and lift himself off of the bed.

"I'll see you in the morning, Frankie." And with that Gerard slipped out of the room and for a moment the two almost could forget the rest of the world. And for a moment it was just like back in the van, the five brothers and their music. Nothing more and nothing less.

But in the morning the boys would be forced back into reality and Gerard would lose himself a little more.

**Sad, kinda angsty, and a filler. I know, shoot me, but I promise something is bound to happen within the next two chapters at the max. I promise. And Riot Child will be back, if you care, but for now, Way brothers have a heartwarming chat, Frankie and Gee make up, and Gerard is hiding something. Not to mention he's in a pretty tough spot right now: Keep running or Save his loved ones? Who knows what'll happen ;) And Bob makes me so sad... And one last thing, if it wouldn't take too much time: Review please? Even if it's to tell me you hate me, that's cool. Just a little push, kay? I'm not going to stop writing but a review makes everything a little brighter :)**

**See you next week, chicas. **

**TBATDP**


	4. It Was The Roar Of The Crowd

Chapter 4. _It Was The Roar Of The Crowd..._

Ghoul and Party shared a grin, as the two put on the final pieces of their Killjoy attire: Party, his jacket and Ghoul's boots. Ray was by the door, bouncing with excitement along with Missile Kid. It would be her second patrol mission. Even Kobra couldn't mask his excitement behind his famous poker-face.

Show Pony was seated at the diner table, tears streaming his face as he let out a large belly-laugh. Ever since Party Poison's... little freak out, he had been grounded from patrol missions, the car, the garage, his raygun, target practice, and the make-shift recording studio. And the other Killjoys had been dragged down with him, at least two of them were forced to be by the redhead at all times. So it had been a real fight and struggle to decide which Killjoy got to go out in the desert with Show Pony, while the other three got stuck taking care of Missile Kid and the safe-house.

But Dr. D had just declared Party's suspension over so the Killjoys, in high spirits for the first time in a long time, got ready to spin the car around the Zones and cause trouble together again. Along with little Missile, who was absolutely ecstatic about getting to ride in the car again.

The suspension had been hard for all of the Killjoys, but hardest for Party... But the redhead couldn't blame the older man. In fact, he almost enjoyed the time away from the life of a Killjoy. A time to relax, take care of Missile, like the daughter he longed for, and pretend that he wasn't a Killjoy. And when Jet would come back with the biggest, reddest sunburns, Ghoul's face peeling, and Kobra looked like a terribly skinny black guy, Party laughed. And he could honestly say in those moments he didn't miss the desert. The safe-house was air-conditioned most of the time and the basement was always a nice breather. Plus it gave him time to write a lot of new material for the band and create more for his comics.

But he would be lying if he claimed to have not missed it at all. Because he had, much more than he liked to admit. Maybe it took losing it to realize, being a Killjoy wasn't as bad as he turned it into. And wryly, he would be reminded of the old saying, 'You never know what you had until it's gone.' And it spoke true for everything in his life. Old and new, he lost too much and he missed it all.

"Ready to go?" Jet grinned at their fearless leader. Party smirked back, looking so much like himself, and gave the taller man a knowing look.

"I've been ready for far too long now." He sent a mock glare in the direction of the DJ, who was standing in the corner, pretending to ignore the boys, but thanks shone bright in his hazel-green eyes. The other Killjoys shared a happy look. He was moving on, Bob's death had taken it's toll, but Gerard was coming around. Finally.

"Are you guys just gonna stand there staring off into space like a bunch of middle school girls, or are we going to go cause trouble and fuck up Bl/ind?" Ghoul called over to his two friends. Jet huffed, but followed his shortest friend and met him at the car where Kobra was already waiting with Missile, looking like she was going to combust at any moment.

"Come on, Party!" She whined. "I wanna go!" The older KIlljoy laughed, his eyes lighting up, as he all but sprinted to the driver's seat of his beloved car. The others cheered as Party got comfortable, looking absolutely at home in the leather seat. He ran his hands over the wheel, before dripping the leather tightly, and just enjoying the feel of it against his hands.

"Hey baby." He purred. "Missed me?" He thrust the keys into the ignition and let the Trans Am roar to life. Party let a wicked grin spread across his face. "Let's see if you can still move like before. Can't have you getting too soft, babe." He spun the wheel and launched the five out of the garage and out into the desert at neck-breaking speeds.

Missile turned to Ghoul, with a confused expression. "Um, Ghoul, why is Party talking to the car?" Ghoul and Jet shared a look as they laughed. They could hear Kobra complaining to Party in the front seat, asking him to slow down, but Party was hell-bent on going as fast as he could. Ghoul turned his attention back to the little girl placed between him and his afro-ed friend.

"You see, baby girl, when a guy loves his car... Well we tend to get carried away." She just furrowed her eyebrows, processing the new information.

"Aren't guys supposed to love girls?" Ghoul grinned.

"I suppose so. Depends on who you ask really..." He trailed off, noticing that the little girl looked absolutely lost and he back-track. "Yep. But do you see any girls out here? We've got to love something and for Party, it happens to be our Trans Am."

"But I'm a girl!" She protested.

"And we're much too old for you, hun."

"Then who supposed to love me?" She looked so hopeless and deflated that Ghoul couldn't resist giving the little girl a hug.

"The right guy will." He told her. "He'll find you, someday, when every things better and not so fucked up." Ghoul paused. "Don't repeat that." She giggled.

"I didn't hear a thing." He laughed and sent her a wink before her attention was captured by something else. Ghoul doubted that she even remembered anything they had just talked about.

"Play that band: The Mad Gear and Missile Kid," She giggled when she said her name-sake. "Please." She added, sweetly. Party grinned as he leaned over and turned up the volume until it threatened to blow out the speakers. Party, let the engine roar as they tore across the desert, the blue sky stretching out in front of them. None of them cared if they attracted all the Dracs in Battery City, hell, they might've even hoped they would, and they continued loudly across the Zones.

Somewhere Else:

Riot Child lifted the raygun at the Drac, a sadistic grin twisting her mouth. It's dead comrades surrounded it and the white-clad Bl/ind created demon squirmed, flailing it's own raygun around wildly, letting colorful rays fire in all directions. Riot laughed loudly making the Drac jump and spin around wildly. Deciding to have a some more fun, she stepped away from the sand dune that had covered for her and trained the gun to the Drac's white chest.

In it's final moments, it managed to raise it's own gun towards her but Riot had already fired the beam, the raygun's kick causing her to jerk back. She heard the familiar sound of the lazer beam hitting it's mark, the sizzle of flesh and clothes. The Drac had no time to let out a cry of pain before it joined it's companions on the desert floor.

However she couldn't enjoy her victory, the final Drac had managed to land a hit. She could smell the metallic scent of blood accompanied by the grotesque smell of burning flesh. The wound stung and blood oozed freely causing the young girl to curse.

Shaking her head, she chastised herself. "Don't get cocky. Don't get cocky." She repeated over and over as she made her way to the dead Dracs and picked up their guns. Three new guns. And suddenly getting shot seemed worth it. However it could've been avoidable.

She picked up the white weapons, when something shiny caught her eye. She bent down by one of the Dracs, and in it's pocket was a blade. She gingerly grasped it and ran a finger down the flat of the knife. It looked newly sharpened. Excellent.

She could hear the roar of an engine and the loud blasting of music. She scowled. She'd bet all her new weapons that was the Killjoys. Quickly, she turned and ran, well, tried to run, she limped away from the scene as fast as she could. She couldn't be seen by those colorful idiots. They would take her away, take her stuff, and waste it. And then Bl/ind would never be finished.

She let determination set in, ignoring the blood coating her leg and the pain in her right hip from the wound, she pushed herself faster, pushing herself into a sprint. The car sounded dangerously close, but it was slowing down, they were probably already at the sight of her massacre. Briefly she hoped that little girl wasn't in the car with them. She might not like the Killjoys and she didn't like Bl/ind or their brainless minions, but what she had done in the moment of power wasn't right.

At the time, their terror filled faces added to the rush, the excitement and she loved it. At the time anyways. Now as the cold reality of what she had done crashed down on herself, she felt sick to her stomach. The smell of her blood and singed skin haunted her, her legs began to tremble and her body threatened to collapse.

She grit her teeth and pushed the thoughts from her mind and she ran harder. She couldn't afford to let emotions get in the way. She couldn't afford to let her humanity to seep in to her mind. She couldn't afford to even think of her humanity. She hated it, but she couldn't, she needed to live to see the end of Bl/ind and being civil and compassionate wasn't going to work. Someone else can be the peacemaker.

In the distance she could hear the engine roar to life again and she picked up her speed. However the sound of tires against the desert sand seemed to be getting fainter which meant they didn't see her trail, or they did but figured she was long gone, for hours even. But those burns should've been fresh and the stench of blood should've still tainted the air.

Blood. Riot cursed again before tumbling into the sand. She hissed as sand intruded her wound and she grabbed the wound. But her mind wasn't on the raygun burn. Those Killjoys probably found some of her blood. From her trail, her blood would've spilled and they must've gotten samples. With all the DJ's technology they could have her whole record in a matter of seconds. They'd have her identity.

However, her identity, her face, her record would only get them so far. She'd have to be more careful, but she'd make it. They might know who to look for, but she'd be damned if she actually let them catch her. She laughed, still ignoring the agony in her side. She could use that to her advantage too. Lead them on, actually get them to do something about Bl/ind. Get the ball the really rolling.

She rolled over onto her back, letting her head rest in the sand. The sun cascaded down on her face, warming every inch of her body. It was different from where she grew up, she didn't see much sun back home, but she relished in the warmth anyways. Eventually after this whole Bl/ind thing was taken care of, it would be: She'd see to that, she figured she'd head home. Or what was left of it anyways.

One of these days.

The Killjoy Base:

Party let out an angry breath and ran a tired hand through his hair. Three more Dracs down before the Killjoys could do anything. All of their weapons gone too. There had been a trail of small footprints and blood. Party had all but jumped at the chance to find the culprit but the rest of the Killjoys had to get Missile home, seeing as she was now in tears, the images of the bloody bodies forever engraved into her young mind.

Kobra had, however, managed to snag some of the rogue's blood. Party was excited to at least put a face to the rogue. And name too. He thought back to the small footprints and the rogue's ability to just disappear. He had the sneaking suspicion that the rogue was a she.

The Doctor was running the tests at the moment but according to him the data wouldn't be in until later that evening. Until then the Killjoys' job was to calm down Missile Kid and stop Party from storming the desert for the rogue and get himself suspended again. Something none of the Killjoys wanted to risk and have to go through all of that again.

Party fiddled with the guitar in his lap. The Killjoys needed a song and he needed to write a new rhythm guitar piece, but so far everything that was started turned into something else until he had multiple solos, rifts, and backbones for guitar pieces from lead, to bass, to rhythm, but none of them were what he wanted. They didn't fit the lyrics he had already written. So he continued to write down new pieces, occasionally writing a small bunch of lyrics to go with one of the new rifts.

Running his hand through his hair again, he grit his teeth before strumming another G chord. No, D worked better... he quickly jot the chord down before giving up. He'd figure something out later. Ghoul peeked his head into the makeshift recording-studio in the basement. He smiled,

"Got anything?"

Party shrugged. "Just some lyrics and one or two pieces, and a lot of random rifts." Ghoul laughed.

"Writer's block sucks some major ass, doesn't it?" Party snorted.

"You're telling me... Nothing for MCR and nothing for The Umbrella Academy. I'm officially brain dead."

"Tough." Ghoul sympathized and Party Poison rolled his eyes. The two fell into silence, both reminiscing about their days on the road. Stadiums, gigs, tours, world tours, interviews, performing, writing, creating, and living. Party broke the silence, living in the past made him uncomfortable. He felt as if he had betrayed his fans, in many ways he had, and it stung to see their excited, awed, and trusting faces behind his eyes. They were there in his mind, in his dreams, every time he closed his eyes he could hear the roar of the crowd. And his heart ached. They screamed his name, the band's name, the chanted, yelled, and cried, they bawled while he sang Ghost Of You, they danced along to Dead!, they marched with Welcome To The Black Parade, and they chanted to I'm Not OK. But most of all they believed in him, in the band, they believed they owed them a debt. A debt of their lives. _MCR SAVED MY LIFE! Saved my life... My life..._

"There must've been a reason for you to come down here." His tone was stiff and his face was wiped of all emotion. Ghoul couldn't hide the wince but Party ignored it.

"Um, ah, right. Doc, says the results are in." Party leapt up, the guitar forgotten.

"Then what are we waiting for? I wanna see the face of this little bastard."

**I kinda feel like I'm stalling. Oops. Well, I'll tip you off, not much happens in this story, this really is just the kick-start of a much more interesting, fun, dangerous, and tricky series. This just sets the stage. I needed a story to introduce Riot Child and unfortunately that's really the purpose of this whole story. The next will be more exciting, but for now you're, whoever you are, stuck with this until it's done. However you'll be happy to know this one, Danger Days, isn't a long story, maybe 10 chapters? Less? A bit more? Not sure, just bare with me :)**

**Um, right, to clarify for anyone who doesn't know, The Umbrella Academy is a comic book series written and created by Gerard Way.**

**And don't forget to review, trust me, I'll still write and shit, but I'd love to know if any of you actually care. Anything works really, criticism is always welcome too. So can I ask for at least one review before next week? Pretty please with Gerard Way and Frankie and Mikey and Ray and BOB! on top?**

**TBATDP**


	5. The World Is Ugly

Chapter 5. _The World Is Ugly..._

"A she. The rogues a she." Jet muttered. "I should've know. Women complicate everything." The rest of the Killjoys and the Doctor chuckled nervously.

"Isabella Rossellini Lewis apparently." Ghoul read, his hand propped up under his chin as he squinted at the screen. "She looks pretty young here..."

"Duh." Kobra snapped. "She's like, ten, in this picture, which means she's either really young, or it's only been a couple years since she left, or she's been gone a long time. Who knows what her actual age is now."

Ghoul rolled his eyes, but his cheeks burned. However he wasn't going to let Kobra get away with that comment unscathed. "How about we check her birthday, dipshit?" Kobra glared and opened his mouth to retort but Jet stepped in.

"Says 1997, September 10th... Ha, she has the same birthday as you Kobra." He grinned and tossed him a smile. "So she's what? It's 2019 now.. she's got to be 22 right now."

"But," the Doctor interrupted. "Look it says: _Citizen 3,543, Isabella Rossellini Lewis, is one of few test subjects of Project #432._" The Doctor paused but after seeing the Killjoy's blank looks continued on. "It's one of t'e few Bl/ind elixirs I know abou', convenient really, but it's an age preserver. Meaning she could look any age, from ten to 22." Ghoul cursed.

"Does that matter though?" Party said finally for the first time since he laid eyes on the young girl. "She looks of Italian and Native American heritage. Plus her natural tan skin, small build, and markings, she's not hard to spot in a crowd. At least she shouldn't be."

"Call me a pedophile, but she's not hard on the eyes neither." Ghoul added. "Nice eyes, they're brown right? They look almost golden... and dark hair. Nice smile too." The other boys rolled their eyes.

"Yeah, if you dig ten year olds." Jet snorted.

"Hey," Ghoul defended himself. "She's not ten anymore, now is she? 22, I believe is the lucky number. She's younger than us, but not by much. Well almost ten years younger than Party, so maybe not too close to his age, but Party's not really interested in anyone right? So it doesn't matter."

Party rolled his eyes. "And what if she looked ten still?"

Ghoul winked. "We don't have to broad cast our relationship, do we?" Kobra's face met his hand and Jet's face burned. Party snorted, choosing to ignore his friend.

"The mental images..." Jet muttered.

Kobra moaned. "I really can't believe you just said that."

The Doctor piped up. "I'm inclined to interrupt 'ere. She'd look around Missile's age, just to clear it up, if she did indeed look ten, Ghoul." Ghoul froze.

"Oh, yeah... that does make it weird..."

"That makes it weird? How about the fact that you were fine with the fact that she might look ten?" Kobra asked incredulously. Ghoul shrugged sheepishly.

"Guilty?"

"Oh my God..." Jet shook his head. "I'm going to pretend I don't know you."

Party decided to step in. "Guys leave it. And Ghoul, what does it matter if she's drop-dead-gorgeous? She's still a rogue and that's it. We get the new weapons, send her on her way, and deal with Bl/ind. That's it. We're not accepting anyone new into the Killjoys. If she wants to be apart of the rebels she can join another branch."

"Even if she's like beautiful and you fall in love with her?" Ghoul pressed. Kobra was almost inclined to agree with Ghoul's question. There was something in Party's eyes when he looked at the girl's photo. Clearly everyone else saw it too, but Party didn't seem to notice. He looked almost protective over the girl like he would Missile Kid but in a more intimate way. So what if Party did fall in love with her? In all of his rage and wonderings about the girl, the rogue, he did often think of her, whether it was romantic or not. And now with a file, Party was bound to study it like a Bible, searching for anything to help out the Killjoys and take care of any possible threat.

Kobra almost wished the redhead would fall in love the young girl over her file, if in any case it brought back even a shadow of the brother he once knew.

The Doctor watched the now-silent Killjoys with a watchful eye. Things had been getting boring around the Zones. Maybe this rogue could be the answer the boys were looking for. Maybe she knew more about Bl/ind. She clearly had good weapons.

"If ya do find 'er, don't send 'er away just yet. She migh' have good information on Bl/ind." Party looked ready to protest but decided against it while the other three looked actually happy. They had seen it too then, the Doctor mused, this girl could be the saving grace Party Poison needed.

The red-headed leader narrowed his eyes at the glowing screen. The photo of her... The background wasn't Battery City. There was a city behind her, but it wasn't the white walls and bleached out world of Bl/ind. No, this city looked full of life, color and he could see a pedestrian carrying a guitar. Even her shirt suggested it was before Bl/ind. He could glimpse the words: _Nightmare _and _Christmas _and _Burton _hinting at a Tim Burton film, most likely The Nightmare Before Christmas. Before Bl/ind. And she looked truly happy. There was no glossy, blank look in her eyes, only warmth and excitement. Ghoul was right, her eyes were warm enough to be golden, and honey like. Thick, rich, golden honey. Her hair was wild and tussoled, but it seemed to suit her. The dark locks tumbled around her shoulders, thick bangs threatened to hide her face in the obvious wind around her, but her hair glinted red in the faded light. She was, as Ghoul said once again, for a ten year old, rather stunning. But he forced himself to look past that.

Isabella Rossellini Lewis. 22 years old. Italian and Native American heritage. Golden brown eyes, tan skin, and dark hair. And a beautiful, crooked white smile. He burned her face into his memory and made a mental note to sketch out any possible looks for her, from ten years to 22, he needed some sort of idea of how she might look.

He realized suddenly that the city behind her was one he had visited himself many times before. For touring, comic book related or just to relax. Food venders around most corners, coffee shops and book shops on every block and plenty of old music and record shops. She was from Portland. His heart ached. He missed the cold city.

"She's in Portland..." He mumbled. But before any of the other Killjoys could make sense of what he said he was already talking again. "I'm going to need a copy of her file."

Kobra hid his smirk and the Doctor rolled his eyes, knowing fully well that Party was going to ask the question sooner or later. "You want her picture in color too?"

Party gave a half-grin. "Yep." He stood up straighter. "Just drop it off at my room, alright? I'm going to be writing some more music." Party turned and swiftly exited the room. The Killjoys shared another look.

That night Party pooled over every possible look and design for her from all ages. But slowly the goal of the mission began to lose it's original urgency and he found himself just enjoying being back at the sketchbook. He found himself, not that he'd admit it, slowly growing fond of the girl, at least the drawings anyways. He spent hours fixing and perfecting every nook and cranny of her body and face.

Somewhere along the way Party had changed from drawing to writing and he found himself writing more lyrics. He also found himself being drawn to the old song they never finished, The World Is Ugly. He didn't understand why he was drawn to the lyrics, most had begun to fade and rust in the dark corners of his mind, and he didn't understand the twist in her gut and the tug in his heart when, longing for him to finish the song. But every time he thought he had something it wasn't right.

When Kobra passed by Party's room way late into the night, he noticed the light was still on, but he couldn't hear the rustle of paper or the scratching of Party's beloved pencils against the old sketchbook. Quietly he peeked his blonde head in to see his older brother out cold and snoring loudly. Kobra stiffled a laugh and slinked into the room. He was reaching for the light switch when he changed his mind. He picked up his brother's sketches to put them away and out of reach from Party's unconscious body, when he glimpsed the face of the girl. He had lived with Gerard his whole life and seen him draw since he could remember but he was always shocked at the sheer talent the red-head posessed. She looked like a photograph...

He noticed Gerard's messy scrawl one some paper as well. Lyrics actually, some new and some were from an old, old song... He smiled fondly at his brother and set the paper on Gerard's night stand before pressing a kiss to his forehead and muttering a goodnight. He flipped the light off and slid the door closed silently, smiling to himself as he made his way to his own room.

**I suck. I really do. Filler chapters. FIller chapters. And more filler chapters. BOO! Anyways, I promise the next chapter it picks up. It does. I swear. It might be a cliff-hanger, but it'll definetly being picking up speed because surprise, surprise, this story is actually pretty much half-way done. Yep. This first installment in pretty damn short, I can't say the same for the rest of the series however.**

**Review? They make me feel good :) **

**But that leads to my question? Do people even read the story?**

**Whatever. **

**TBATDP. **


	6. Through Broken Glass And Morning Light

Chapter 6. _Through Broken Glass And The Morning Light._

The man in white snarled. The Draculoids around him shared scared glances and tried to hide their fear. When he got angry, someone got shot. And then another, and then another. Heads would roll and bodies would drop.

His hand clenched tightly around his gun holster, his pasty face was screwed up into a deep scowl. His lips were twisted up into a sneer.

"You're telling me," Korse's voice was low and quiet, but his words weighed enough to crush each of the killjoys at once. And they were sharp enough to only leave behind scraps of bloody tissue and the crumbs of bones. "That four of the new rayguns are..." His ruthless gaze swept over the mindless drones, chilling even them to the bone. "Missing?" He paused and came closer to his troops. "Right?" He reached over and grabbed the greasy hair of the Drac closest to himself. The poor man, didn't have time to suppress his yelp.

Korse smirked lecherously. "Did that hurt?" He ran a cold finger down the side of the scared Dracs' face and pressed his cold lips to the temple of the Drac. "Oops." He giggled before yanking the Drac up higher by his hair. This time the Drac did not make a sound and for a moment Korse let his disappointment shine through. But it was quickly forgotten. "Well, lieutenant? They're missing? Or perhaps..."

"We-we're not-t sure-sure Sir." The Drac squeaked, unable to control his voice.

"Wh-what do you-you mean-n, you worthless piece of shit?" Korse mocked and slipped a hand into the Draculoid's pants. It shuddered.

"We haven't-t" The Dracs voice caught as Korse stroked him, grinning wickedly. Taking a deep breath, the Drac started again. "Where the rayguns are as of now, we don't know. But we have reason to believe that rebels-" Korse squeezed the Drac's manhood causing the colorless fiend to moan. Korse tilted his head to side slowly, the faint light in the room hit his bald head giving it a shiny look to it.

"The Killjoys, you mean?" Korse questioned with faux sweetness. The Drac panted,

"Highly possible sir. We have reason that they have taken the guns. Sir." Korse pressed a kiss to the Drac's cheek before dropping him to the ground.

"Good. Is that all Lieutenant?"

The Drac shuddered in response. Korse smiled fiendishly.

"Excellent. Your work is done, now Lieutenant." The pale Drac froze, but it was too late, Korse already had his finger on the trigger. The smell of blood and burning flesh filled the room and he turned to the other three Draculoids.

"Well, how do you suppose we stop this? We can't have those filthy little shits running around with dear, Ms. Miller's newest creation now can we?" Korse said coyly. The other Dracs forced themselves to look away from the fallen body of their comrade.

"The little girl, the rebels carry around, sir." One Drac piped up. "We could capture her, lead the rebels into a trap, kill them and get the technology back." Korse grinned.

"I like it. We can kill her too." He looked straight at the Draculoid who had just spoken. "You are now Lieutenant." He faced the other two, disgust evident on his face. "You two failed. And for that you must die." The rays had been shot as soon as the words left his mouth. The bodies hit the floor.

"Before you go Lieutenant, call a meeting, I wish to address the whole of the army. You all appear to have too much emotion." Korse crackled. "And get me that girl. I want those Killjoy's pretty little heads on my wall. Especially dear Party Poison." He smirked. "He's rather attractive, wouldn't you say?" Korse turned on heel and left the new Lieutenant to deal with the bodies.

The small girl quickly ducked out of the way as Party Poison left the room swiftly, his face set in determination. She let out a breath of relief as the red head continued on down the hallway, unaware of the large, doe brown eyes following him.

She thought back to the conversation she had just heard. About the rogue, about the bodies of those Dracs they found today... She shuddered and forced the images of their bloody corpses from her mind. She focused on the memory of Party's strong arms around her, as he sang to her sweetly, while Kobra took the wheel on the way back to the base.

She thought about how badly Party wanted to get the rogue and she thought about the way the rest of Killjoys talked about the redhead. About the redhead and the rogue. A saving grace. She knew Party wanted to find the rogue. Maybe... maybe she could help! Maybe she could go out into the desert and find the rogue. The rogue was a girl, so maybe Missile could find her and talk to her. Get her to give up the guns and maybe get her to come back with her so Party can be saved or whatever. She giggled, maybe Party fall in love with the rogue.

And maybe she'd have a friend. A girl who would braid her hair and play with dolls with her.

That solidified her answer. She was going out into the desert and she was getting that rogue.

Korse watched smugly as white car after white van each filled with Dracs, new guns, and a new anti-emotion drug pumping through their veins, sped out into the desert.

If this didn't get the Killjoys... It only prolonged their game. A game Korse enjoyed playing, any chance to see the redhead hot and sweaty was a treat really, but he planned to come out on top.

In the end he was going to enjoy his time with the head Killjoy and maybe even those other three. Until then, he watched like a hawk, waiting to swoop in on his prey and dig his claws into their flesh. He couldn't wait to see the fear on their faces. He could almost taste it.

The sirens were everywhere. It was looking good. Riot cussed, they hadn't seen her yet but it was only a matter of time with all of the Drac units everywhere. She was toast, she could fight off a few at a time, granted from shelter, but a mob? In plain sight? She might as well give up now and lay down with an apple in her mouth. But she was a fighter, so she kept running.

The only slightly comforting thing about the sheer amount of Dracs and Bl/ind vehicles was that it meant they were just going all out on a search. They weren't trying to find her, or just one person in particular, They were trying to find anybody, but she had a feeling that the Killjoys were the main targets. Any other rebel down was just a bonus.

But Riot had the guns. And that wasn't good.

One Bl/ind van zoomed close by her and she dived down, using a small desert shrub as a tiny shield. She hoped it covered her just enough for the van to pass without suspicion.

As the headlights faded, the stench of the van already fading, the recently blue-hair-dyed girl let out a sigh of relief.

This wasn't what Missile had planned. Dracs were everywhere. It was pitch black out, the only light was the pale moon, glittering stars, and the artificial light of the Bl/ind search lights. She was far away from the base and she didn't have a clue as to how she was supposed to get back.

Suddenly a loud voice crackled behind her. A bright light was casted down on to her, blinding her, but she knew who, or rather what, was there. Multiple Dracs laughed mercilessly. Two of them raised their guns at her and all she could do was stare at the bleached figures in horror, her back pressed against the desert floor.

One of the Dracs fired and the beam scorched through her sleeve and leaving a burning cut across her arm. She yelped in pain and the Dracs laughed again. Another one raised its gun to fire, or maybe it was the same one, when out of nowhere someone launched their foot into the Drac's face. Missile could hear the crunch of it's nose.

The girl turned around and raised two guns at the last four Dracs. They were in a moment of shock, not sure where this girl had come from. She shot a beam of royal blue and it sunk into on of the Drac's chest. The other were out of their shock and were training their guns onto her.

The blue haired girl shot forward, rolled under two of the laser beams, picked up Missile and ran.

Missile's brown eyes were wide with terror and wonder. Who was this girl? Riot turned her head down to the young Killjoy. She gave her a weak grin, but it turned out like a grimace. She twisted and swerved and ducked. Riot managed to pause as she hid behind a sand dune. She removed her fuzzy animal hat and wrapped it around Missile's arm.

"To stop the bleeding." She told her quietly. "Now," she looked into those doe eyes. "Can you shoot a gun?" She pulled out her last gun. "This is my spare, you need to defend yourself-I'm going to get you to safety but you've got to cover my back, OK, kid?" The Dracs were coming closer and light appeared over the dune. Missile noticed there were streaks of white in her blue hair.

"Who are you?" She squeaked, taking the gun gingerly from the older girl's hands.

"You can call me Riot, short for Riot Child. Now, you gonna save my ass right?" Missile could only nod before Riot had her in her arms again and they were running. The mocha skinned younger girl fumbled clumsily with the gun but managed to fire a shot at a Drac that had it's ray pointed and locked on Riot's back. Riot heard the yelp and thump of a body and congratulated her.

"Keep it up, kiddo." Missile felt a pain at the nickname. It reminded her of the Killjoys, of home and of family. She really hoped she'd get to see them again. Suddenly Riot snarled and bit down on her lip. She stumbled, but hung on to the little girl. "Motherfucker..." Riot moaned. "Kid, I thought you had my back? I can't keep taking shot top my leg." Missile felt tears sting her eyes.

"Sorry." She muttered. She couldn't let herself get wrapped up in her thoughts, she had to help Riot, they had to escape. The older girl was stumbling and letting out a string of curses that would make even Ghoul blush. Missile fires another shot, not fatal this time but instead immoblizing the white man. Or woman. Or whatever it was.

Riot was sweating up a storm, the kid was getting heavier and heavier and each step on her leg sent a new round of curses streaming out of her mouth before she could even think of the young ears she was assulting. This wasn't good, if this kept up they would have to stand and fight. And they couldn't afford that, with seemingly more and more Dracs gaining and joining the chase. She stumbled and tripped again, sending her body downwards. She managed to thrust her hand out to stop the fall and push them backup, but the crack that sounded and seemingly electric shock up her arm. Missile let out a small scream, but Riot could only pray that her wrist wasn't broken.

Another shot is fired and Riot only heard Missile's small squeak of a warning before pain flamed up on her shoulder. She tripped and crashed into the sand, trying to use the same wrist to break the fall only to receive more pain. Black dots swarmed her vision but she twisted her body in time as to not crush Missile.

Riot was in a daze. Everything was spinning, the blood was roaring in her ears and the only thing she could focus on was the aching pain all over her body, blocking out everything and threatening to take her under. The Drac search lights were swirling and only added to her terror. She couldn't focus, Missile needed her, they were going to die, she needed to get up, but everything was ringing.

Missile cried for Riot to get up, but she was losing a lot of blood and everytime the older girl tried to get she would swoon and collapse. The Dracs were swarming the place, their ruthless laughter filled the air.

Riot tried shaking the dots from her vision, she could see Missile's horrorified face and the monotone laughter of the Dracs was slowly flooding back into her ears. She grasped her guns tightly and fired at one Drac. Much to amazement she actually struck home, sending the body crashing down, only to be replaced soon after. Missile also raised her new gun at the white creators. She bit her lip, trying to control her fear and put on a brave face.

Riot got into a crouching position, both her guns trained on Dracs. They shared a look, doe brown to honey gold, and Missile knew what she needed to do.

Missile was barely breathing, only letting out short, ragged puffs. She could hardly see out of her eyes, the blood had caked over them. just through her encrusted lashes she could see Riot's face and her body just over her. Missile felt like crying, her whole body was on fire, the pain was unlike anything she had ever expirenced. But Riot looked even worse off.

Her chest barely lifted, her breath was weezy and almost non-existant. Her body was broken, bloody, and defeated. Her eyes were shut and Missile knew that she was never going to see out of her right eye again. The bloody gash where eye socket was supposed to be told her as much.

Tears leaked down her bloody cheeks. _Please, please. Whoever is up there, please, help us. Send us the Killjoys, save us, please, save Riot. Save me please. Please... _Missile let her eyes roll over into her head as she passed out, relishing in the feeling of the cold waves of sleep.

"Gerard wake the fuck up!" Ghoul shouted. He grabbed the redhead's shoulders and shook him mercilessly. "Wake up!" Gerard groggily wiped her eyes and glared at her short friend.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"It's Missile." He breathed. Gerard narrowed his eyes.

"What-"

"She's gone."

**Well that took me longer than normal to write. But in the end I'm happy with the results. Nice long, bloody chapter for ya'll. Two more chapters left guys. Two more in Danger Days anyways. Up next, the sequel will be called Bulletproof Heart and we will be seeing a whole lot more of Fun Ghoul ;) Still though, Rikey or no Rikey, tell me, cause I don't know, nor do I care :D**

**Later Motorbabes,**

**TBATDP.**


	7. Are You Ready For A Firefight?

Chapter 7. _I Hope You're Ready For A Fire Fight._

Party Poison wasted no time in jumping from his bed, and stripping straight then and there to get into his Killjoy uniform. God knows he can't storm the desert in just PJ pants. Unfortunately Frank hadn't quite had the time or reaction to actually get out of the room before Gerard had almost completely de-clothed himself.

Ghoul's face was scarlet, but he joked anyways, "God, Gee, you sure as hell picked a bad time to try and seduce me, with Missile and all-" Party Poison tossed him the bird, his face scrunched up into a scowl.

"Now is not the time Ghoul." The redhead paused. "And why the fuck are you still here?" Frank yelped and turned on his heel out of the room. Gerard pulled up his jeans and threw on his jacket, barely having time to grab a black tank-top to have on under.

But he made it out in record time, gun in hand and mask already covering his face. But even the yellow mask couldn't hide the evident scowl and the sharp fear that flickered in his now forest green eyes.

The rest of the Killjoys were in the room, lacing up their boots. Dr. D had his head in his hands and was muttering to himself. But he had a gun out and ready. Even Show Pony, the poor gay teen who refused to hold a gun now looked ready for a fight.

Mikey tossed his older brother a smirk and Ghoul elbowed him. Party ignored them and grabbed his boots, slipping them on and lacing them up with ease. The other three Killjoys were already at the door and Ray was giving Show Pony a few pointers. They were still leaving the Doc and the young teen behind, someone had to protect base and to make sure Missile didn't come wandering home.

Party watched with slight amusement as Ray gave the young teen a gentle good-bye hug and the redhead watched as his younger brother glared at the floor. He shared a quick look with Ghoul and the Doctor snorted behind them, letting Party know all he needed.

Party grabbed the Trans Am keys before shoving his way out of the house, the other three Killjoys right behind him. Gerard slammed the keys into the ignition and barely let the others join him in the car as the engine roared and he zoomed out of there. Every moment they spent there was another moment Missile might die because of.

They had to find her fast.

It wasn't until long that the Killjoys could hear the sounds of sirens and the flashing of lights up ahead, illuminating the desert all shades of colors and turning the midnight sky into the Northern Lights.

The four rebels shared a look.

"Kobra, contact the Doc, tell him there's a firefight up by Route Guano." The blonde nodded and used the car's small transmission box to find the Doc. By the looks of it they were going to need some serious back up.

"_Pzzzt-Pzt-Doc-Pzt-Dracs-pzzzt-Firefight-Pzt" _The Doctor leaned in after yelling at Pony to shut up with his nervous chatter._ "Route Guano-pzzzzzzt-back-pzt-up-pzzzztt-" _The Doc growled and grabbed his head set. He flipped the radio station on, hoping that some rebels would be listening.

"Ter all Rebels, I repeat, ter all rebels. Killjoys request back up. Dracs an' it sounds like er firefight. Route Guano, I repeat, back up on ol' Route Guano." Now the Doctor could only pray that other rebels had heard the cry and went to the boys' aid. The Killjoys may've been the best shots in all of the desert, even they couldn't stand a _firefight _with a army of Dracs.

He tilted his head back, facing the sky, his eyes pressed tightly shut.

"Oh, God, please get t'ose boy 'ome. Get lil' Missile 'ome ter."

Riot was up again and conscious but Missile decided she'd have preferred it when she was out clean, at least then the Dracs weren't beating the crap out of the older girl. Demanding her how she got her guns and demanding where the Killjoys were.

Riot wasn't helping her own situation either, the teenager had mouth, and that mouth could go off and once it did, well, shoo, it sure was lucky the Dracs wanted answers because they looked ready to blow her brains out onto the desert floor.

One Drac slammed his foot back into the blue-haired girl's ribs, the sharp crack and the surprised whimper from the oldest girl let Missile know the damage. Tears filled her eyes but she kept doing as Riot had told her to, '_Shut the fuck up and stay as fucking quiet as possible. You'll be safe that way. Let me do the talking.' _

Missile didn't agree but she figured there was be a reason behind her orders.

"I'll say this again you insolent brat, where are the Killjoys?"

"And I'll say this again," Riot spat, blood dribbling down her chin from her mouth. "I don't fuckin' know. They ain't my crowd." A Drac grabbed her hair, hoisting her up. He snarled,

"Oh, no?" Riot spat on his face and rolled her eyes.

"Naw." The Drac snarled, but instead of smashing her face in like they had been earlier, then the Drac smirked.

He ran a finger down her face. "If you weren't covered in blood, I'd say you were a cute little thing." Riot snarled and tried to pull away but the Drac had a strong grip on her hair. "Pretty girl like yourself shouldn't be running around the desert."

"Oh, no?" The teen mocked. But the Drac only smirked before bringing his mouth roughly against hers. She tried to twist her head away but the Drac yanked harder on her hair and bit her. He pulled away and wiped Riot's blood from his mouth.

"My, you do taste delicious."

"I thought the whole Vampire thing was a joke." Riot managed weakly. The Drac laughed before bringing his mouth to her neck and running his tongue over her pulse. Riot hissed.

"Tender are we?" Riot tried wiggling again but to no avail. More Dracs had come over and grabbed at her, holding down her small body. Then the Drac bit her neck making Riot let out a small scream. The Draculoid chuckled and lapped up the blood from her fresh wound.

"Delicious." The Drac smirked and turned to the other Draculoids crowding around the two girls. "Let's see how the younger one tastes, hmm?" He stared straight into Riot's golden eyes and press another blood tasting kiss to her lips. Riot made a face of disgust. "You're like sweet and sour but I bet sweet little Mocha over here is all sugar."

Riot leaned over, pressing her split lips to the Drac's ear and snarled. "You can fucking rape me for all I care but you ain't gettin' your filthy BL/Ind hands on her, bastard." Using his momentary distraction she brought her leg up in full force to his crotch. The Drac howled and Riot sent Missile a look, _Run. _

She didn't want to, but she knew what Riot had done and knew that if she didn't run she would've wasted Riot's life in vain. Missile shot up and ran as fast as she could, her body aching in pain, but she kept on. The Dracs were now scattering and chasing after her and she could only hope that Riot had managed to escape.

By the time the Killjoys made it to the scene, the Dracs were already leaving, in pursuit of something else. The boys shared scared looks. That only met one thing: Missile Kid.

Gerard pushed the gas petal down even farther, causing the Trans Am to go even faster than before, faster than the poor car had ever gone. All four rebels got their rayguns ready as the sped on to the remaining Dracs.

They shot each and everyone of them down, not even bothering to see if they were dead or to demand answers, they just kept going, kicking up dust as they went.

Riot kicked, struggled, hit and screamed against the Dracs. The leader was waiting for her in the van. She glared at him venomously. He glared back.

"You cost us a hostage..." He snarled, grabbing her face in a way that was sure to leave bruises in the morning... that is if she lives through it. She allowed herself a small smirk.

"Not feeling so hot, are we? Bet you're pretty fucking scared to go up against Korse-" Riot wasn't really sure where the name had come from and the Drac stopped cold, but she knew she struck a nerve, if the flash of upmost terror that filled his eyes, said anything. It was gone quickly but it had been there. He slammed her up against the wall inside the van, his hand in a tight hold around her small neck.

"How do you know Korse?" He snarled.

Her face was turning blue and she wheezed. "Wouldn't... You... Like... Ta... Kno'..." The Drac growled and smashed her down onto the the steel ground. He kicked her again and again and stepped on her bad ankle causing it to snap. And all she could do was whimper.

She tried remaining strong, believe her she tried, but she was losing blood, losing sight, and losing the will to live. The pain was unbearable and she wanted nothing more than to let the black waves take over her mind and carry her far away from the blistering hot pain.

The back of the white van the Killjoys were chasing was almost within reach. Mikey now had the wheel and the oldest Killjoy was getting ready to jump.

Kobra gave him the nod and the redhead shot forward and bust into the weak doors of the BL/Ind van. But instead of finding Missile Kid bound and gagged, he found a Drac on top of a teenage girl with blue and white hair. She was covered in blood and Gerard knew right away that this was the rogue.

He shot the Drac without a second thought and looked at the broken girl. His heart clenched. Rogue or not, he needed to help this girl. Her golden eye pleaded with him, the other was covered in blood, but he had a feeling that it was hardly there anymore.

Quickly he picked up the small girl, her body surprisingly light and she whimpered. Gerard's heart twisted and the hate in his stomach for BL/Ind grew by a 10th fold. He knew what was about to have happened to the young rebel had he not been there. She would've been raped and killed.

Swiftly he jumped back into the Trans Am, the other Killjoys staring at him in shock.

"You know that's the-"

"I fucking know that." He snapped back. The other Killjoys quieted down and resolved for staring at the girl in his arms. She wasn't in good shape that was for sure.

Her hair was a bright blue and white, at least it would've been if it weren't for all the blood staining her body. She was breathing heavily, her small body almost completely smashed to pieces and her clothes were torn.

Party was trying to stop the bleeding in anyway he could in a speeding sports car, but it seemed her whole body was bleeding. A wave of protectiveness surged through him and he gently pressed her closer, moving her head so it was on his shoulder. She cried out but didn't pull away.

"At least she's not 10." Ghoul tried to lighten the mood but Party only glared at him instead. "Right." the raven-haired man amended. "Shutting up now."

Missile was tired. She didn't want to keep running. Riot was dead and she was going to join her soon anyways. So why prolong it? But then the comforting voices of the Killjoys, Show Pony, and Dr. D ran true in her ears. She had to keep moving. It was the only way.

If only her body could keep up.

A large spotlight was thrown onto her for the second time that night and an erupting pain her leg told her all she needed to know. She smashed into the desert floor, the little grains of sand scrapped against her face. Dracs were laughing and she knew this was the end.

Riot was dead, she wouldn't be able to help her again and the Killjoys were still nowhere to be seen.

She recalled a lullaby that Party had used to sing to her in the early days of the Killjoys. "_And through it all, how could you cry for me? Cause I don't feel bad about it..."_ The Dracs were getting closer, like a pack of wolves closing in on their prey a little brown rabbit. She was going to die, but she was going to die remembering the arms of her family and Riot Child, the sister she never had the chance to know.

"_So shut your eyes, kiss me goodbye..." _Missile did as the lyrics requested. She sealed her doe eyes from the world for them to be seen again and she prayed to God that the Killjoys, that her family knew that she kissed them all goodbye, a sweet, tiny peck on each of their unshaven cheeks. _"And just sleep... And just sleep..."_

The sound of the Dracs were all around her, blocking out anything else, but she still focused on the last line of the lullaby...

She could hear the clicks of each Dracs trigger. _Good bye..._

_"The hardest part... Is letting go of, your dreams..."_

Ghoul carried the small, beaten body of Missile Kid back to the car. She still had a pulse but it was faint. Kobra was making sure that every single Drac was dead and in a pile of corpses.

They had heard Missile's cries and the Dracs hadn't stood a chance against the rage-blinded Killjoys and barely walking, but equally as pissed rogue. Not to mention, when backup finally decided to show it's face, the Dracs could barely even scream.

Ghoul pressed a small kiss to the young girl's curly head and glanced inside the Trans Am where Party was taking the opportunity to stop the teen's bleeding. Ghoul smiled tiredly, but just as warmly as he gazed down through the window at the two of them.

The rogue was going to be the death of Party Poison, but she was going to be his saving grace. Ghoul just knew it.

**Ta da! I know, I know, no actual fight scenes. But I have to be honest, I'm not really great with mammoth fight scenes so I was saving you guys the trouble :)**

**One last chapter guys. Yeah, I know, weird right? But none of you made a preference so I choose for you and Rikey is happening :) Yep.**

**After chapter 8, comes Book 2: Bulletproof Heart. Hope you stick around :)**

**TBATDP**


	8. You're In The Wrong Place, My Friend

Chapter 8. _You're In The Wrong Place, My Friend_

_Everything was black. And it was cold. Freezing actually. Much like being at sea, wading in the Pacific Ocean. The memories gave her chills. The ocean waves smashing against paper, thin skin, threatening to take the small teen under. Riot remembered the burning of salt water invading her throat as she screamed for help, as she screamed for a savior but all that came was choking and splashing. Her lungs screamed for air but the ocean continued to mercilessly slide down and fill her throat. _

_She couldn't see, the salt stung her eyes and her dark hair acted as a blind fold, tying around her face, blocking her vision, confusing her. Which way was up? Which way was down? Where was the beach? Where was the air, the bright blue sky? _

_She thrashed around, screaming but no one could hear her, the water blocking her voice from ever reaching the ears of the citizens on the beach. She was losing focus, her throat burned and her body weakly twisted in it's exhaustion. But with one last push, she launched her body forward, in hopes that the surface was in that direction. _

_Her lungs burst as the cold, crisp sea air filled her back up and just through her bangs she could see the figures of the families on the beach, laughing and talking. They hadn't even noticed... Did they even care? _

_But did it matter? She was losing grasp faster now, no adrenalin to fuel her, her world swirled with the tide, black dots swarmed her sight and she began to float away. The ocean pushed and pulled at her small, frozen body but she let it move her. She was done fighting... Wasn't that the point of her going so far out into the ocean anyways? To see if they would care if she died? If she intended on dying? Committed suicide? _

_She closed her eyes and let her body drift away, caught up in the waves as they hugged her body. And she allowed a small smile to grace her face for the first time in years..._

Her eyes shot open, her breathing was ragged and raspy. She began to panic, something was blocking her sight from her right eye. Her hand snapped to her eye, feeling it throb, and to find a bandage, she stifled a gasp. A cold sweat had broken out across her forehead and upper lip. In disgust, she wiped it away and tried to calm her heart.

She clenched her fists, grasping the soft material of the blanket beneath her. She squeezed her eyes closed and bit her lip, refusing to let the sob that threatened to get out, slip between her bloody lips.

A callused hand reached down and placed it's self onto her shivering shoulder. She jumped and turned her scared eyes to the man next to her. He gave her a soft, understanding smile.

"Hey." He said quietly. "I'm glad to see you're awake." Fun Ghoul commented and handed her a glass of warm liquid. She took the mug gingerly and eyed him suspiciously. He raised his hands in defense.

"No, worries, kid. It's not poison. Just warm milk with a splash of vanilla." He held up his pointer finger and his thumb giving her the 'little bit' sign. Deciding she had nothing to lose and she took a sip. She bit back the purr that rumbled in her aching throat, when realization crashed down on her.

"I was screaming wasn't I?" Ghoul cast her a sad grin. She moaned and closed her eyes, her cheeks burning. "And my eye...?"

"Hey." He started and sat down by the blue haired girl. "Everyone has nightmares, us Killjoys more than normal people, and trust me screaming isn't uncommon in the safe house." Her golden eye widened.

"I'm in the safe house?" Ghoul nodded.

"And as for your eye..." He trailed off uncomfortably. "I'm sorry but we couldn't save it. Doc had to stitch you up." He paused, "Do you mind me asking, but um... How did you survive?" He asked the teen softly. She looked him in the eyes and was surprised to find only concern and even protectiveness in his green eyes. She sighed,

"How do you figure? I mean, what do you mean?"

Ghoul scratched his head. "Well, I mean... Like from your screams? I got that you were drowning, freaked out and then, just, like... let go, I guess." He shrugged. "I dunno."

Riot shuddered. "Some... Something like that." She looked at his concerned face and the words came rushing out before she could even think about what she was saying.

"We were at the beach one day. It was a camp. A church camp for the families... We would go every year. I looked forward to it every year." She took a deep breath and Ghoul hesitantly placed a hand on top of hers. When she didn't remove it, he gave her tiny hand a light squeeze. He knew what would come next wouldn't be easy for her.

"It was down by the beach. And I'd go out there everyday, nevermind the other kids, I never got along with them anyways." She wrinkled her nose. "They were all so... churchy..." Ghoul laughed lightly.

"I was depressed, had been for over a year. I wasn't into self harm, like cutting, but I was into pain. I did crazy things that would end up with me bleeding on the floor. I was bullied too. No one knew about it, anyone I tried to tell ignored me." The raven-haired man wrapped his arms around her tiny body. He knew what it was like to bullied. Oh did he know...

"I was an outcast. Not always a problem, I'm not the most social kid out there," She giggled weakly. "So sometimes being on my own was a blessing. I was always a very independent kid too. And so, I had time to focus on the things I loved. But a lot of the time, the fun would wear off and it would be just... me. All alone, in the dark, with no one to hear my screams or pleading.

"One day the family and I were at the beach. Earlier I had tried to talk to my mom about my depression, but she was convinced I didn't know what depression was and therefore I didn't know what I was talking about." She squeezed her visible eye shut and let out a shaky breath. Ghoul waited patiently next to her.

"I wonder sometimes that if maybe I had gone to my dad... Things would've been different..." Her voice was so quiet the smallest Killjoy almost missed it. "But that day I went out into the water, like normal, but it was different. Everyone was on the beach, the whole of my church was out there. And I figured that if I were to get lost the tide surely someone would notice, right? And maybe then I'd see that I wasn't as alone as I thought I was," her voice shook but she pressed on.

"So I went farther out. So far I couldn't even touch the bottom if I pushed myself downward and the waves were so strong... I lost control and the waves took me under. I began to panic, I began to have second thoughts, maybe they did notice me, but it would be too late? I started to inhale the water, I tried screaming for help, thrashing about, but only made it worse. I prayed that someone would notice me out there..." Her voice cracked before her eyes filled with bitterness and her voice dripped with venom.

"Of course they didn't. They were too busy laughing and making a fool out of their anti-social daughter to notice she was dying. I realized that in mid-struggle. I closed my eyes and just let go, knowing that this was the end. I knew that if know one cared then why the fuck should I still be here. I accepted my fate and lost consciousness." She looked up at him, her golden eyes pleading.

"I thought I was dead. But I woke up on the beach, in the sand, somewhere from where my family had been sitting. It was night time too. The stars were out and the moon hung just over the ocean..." Tears began to leak down her face. "My parents hadn't noticed at all. No one had. I had been passed out on the beach for hours and no one noticed I was gone.

"I didn't have the energy to try and drown again, but I didn't have the energy to find my family so I just laid out there on the beach all by my lonesome, wondering why on earth was I still alive. It was from that day forward I knew that no one cared about you. It was just you against the world and no one cared. And I was sure as hell never going to make the mistake of believing I was cared for by anybody."

"Then I guess you won't believe me when I say we care for you?" Ghoul asked hesitantly. Riot snorted,

"Nope." She popped the 'p'. "I know your leader or whatever fucking hates my guts. And I can't imagine why the rest of you would be any different."

"Well I am." Ghoul pointed out causing the young teen to falter. She looked up into his green eyes, her own had become almost the size of dinner plates. Ghoul was shocked to see how young and innocent the girl seemed. Definitely not the same girl who two days ago was bleeding on the floor and still killing Dracs like it was absolutely nothing. " And you can bet your colorful hair that Missile cares a shit-load too." He added slyly. "Besides," he shrugged. "Party doesn't hate you."

Riot got a fond look in her eyes when Ghoul mentioned the little, curly-haired girl. She chose to focus on the small girl other than the redheaded Killjoy. "Is she, Missile... Is she alright?" She asked carefully, closing her eye and preparing for the worse. Ghoul smiled kindly.

"She's been awake for a day now. She's been coming to visit you since." Ghoul looked around the room, confusion masking his expression. "Party must got her doin' something because she's not here right now..."

"You say she's been up for a day? How long was she out? How long was I out?"

"Missile was only out for a day. You? Two." He answered. Riot shook her head and made to get up. Her knees shook and she stumbled, almost hitting the ground before Ghoul snatched her back up and placed her back on the make-shift hospital bed.

"Slow down, girl. Where do you think you're off to?" Ghoul joked but before the teen could answer, Party was in the door, a thick scowl on his face.

"Yeah, I'd like to know that too, rogue." He crossed the room with ease, like a skilled predator. Ghoul immediately stood up in front of his best friend.

"Whoa there Poison, maybe we should wait-"

"No." The older man growled and stepped around the small man. He glared down at the teen and she glared right back.

"She just woke up!" Ghoul tried to reason, but Party was having none of it.

"Tell me rogue, where did you think you were going?" He bent down by her, his lips curled into a snarl. Riot tried her hardest to glare back but the Killjoy's hazel green eyes were a fire. She swallowed slowly and cursed herself for showing weakness. "I said: Where the fuck do you think you're doing?" Venom oozed from his words. Ghoul tried to get his attention. "Do you think you're just going to prance back out into the desert while we all wave you happy goodbyes? Do you? Well think again."

The redhead pulled away slightly but only so he could place the barrel of his gun to her temple. Ghoul let out a squeak of horror and tried to grab his arm. Party only shook him off. Riot gulped and glanced at the gun out of the corner of her eye.

"Well then..." She wheezed before clearing her throat. She couldn't show weakness but damn it was hard when he was glaring at her like that and his gun pressed to her head so tightly she could still feel the heat radiating off of it. She wondered how recently he had used it. If he had been practicing her execution. "Then what are you going to do to me?"

Party smirked. "I'm no stranger to torture." She bit back a gasp of horror. Ghoul tried desperately to get his attention again.

"For fucks sake, Ghoul! Get out of here then!" He yelled and Ghoul stared in horror, but the small man turned and began to leave anyways. Right before he left, he turned in the doorway,

"What the fuck happened to you, _Party Poison_?" He said the lead Killjoy's name in mockery and disgust. Party only snarled at him to get out again. And with a final sad look Ghoul left the room. The redhead turned his attention back to the blue-haired girl.

"Turning my own best friend on me, rogue? That's a bit low dontcha think?" His voice was calm and taunting but Riot could noticed the small catch in his voice and the flicker of self-disgust in those hazel-like eyes. She agreed with Ghoul, _what the fuck was up with this guy?_

"I don't think that was me." She snapped before she had time to process the words. But she was so angry now, this guy was being a total dickhead and not to mention blaming Riot for his friendship problems was not helping his case. Party growled and smacked her with the butt of his gun causing her head to snap to the side. She let out a small cry, completely caught off guard. Her forehead throbbed in pain and a small, sticky tear ran down her face.

But she was shocked to find that when she turned back to face him, he was staring at her face in shock. Horror and self-loathing shone brightly in his sad eyes. As if almost in a trance he reached up and gingerly caressed the forming bruise on her forehead. She winced as more tears began to flood her vision and Party jerked his hand away. He began to open his mouth when Missile Kid burst into the room, a giant smile shining brightly on her face.

"Riot!" She squealed, running up and throwing her arms around her neck in a tight hug. The teen quickly rubbed the tears away. "You're awake!" She giggled happily. Her doe eyes caught sight on the bruise forming on her forehead, next to her temple and she scrunched her forehead together in question. The little girl turned back over to the still frozen Killjoy leader.

"I thought all injuries were treated, Geesy?" Riot didn't understand the nickname but the way Missile said it, so affectionate and fondly, all anger disappeared and Riot didn't have the heart to rat out the older man. Before the redhead could answer Riot piped up.

"It's new." She said slowly. Missile had turned her big eyes back to the teenage girl while the redhead cast his head down and abruptly stood up, his face completely free of all emotions. "Don't worry about it, I probably got it when I was thrashing around in my sleep." Riot smiled good-naturedly as if to prove her point.

Party stared at the teen girl for a second, shocked that she had covered for him. He caught her eyes for a split second.

_For Missile._

He just nodded coolly.

"Hey, Geesy, can Riot become part of the Killjoys?" Missile asked sweetly from the blue-haired girl's lap. Both rebels froze. Party turned for the door.

"We'll take it up with the rest of the guys." Riot narrowed her eyes at the retreating figure of the eldest Killjoy. Something was up with him and Riot wanted to find out. "But don't get your hopes up kid." And Riot got the feeling he wasn't just talking to Missile.

Riot slowly made her way out of whatever room they had placed her in with Missile leading the way eagerly. Missile was practically bursting at the seems, her mouth moving a mile a minute, the smile on her face threatened to swallow her whole. Riot couldn't even begin to try and decipher what Missile had said before she jumped onto the next thing.

So Riot just settled for smiling weakly and nodding her head whenever it looked like Missile was awaiting an answer. The safe house was pretty small, to be excepted, but it just seemed, from what she had actually gathered from the girl's incessant chatter, that the boys recorded music, the Doc had his radio show here, and there was room for all seven inhabitants, with a small meeting/living/dinning room. She managed to catch that she had been passed out in the room the Killjoys recorded their music.

She smirked, knowing that Party Poison wasn't going to be happy that Missile had already given her so much information.

When she stepped into the room which, she supposed, was the meeting room, all talk ceased. And 12 pairs of eyes made their way to her. Party was scowling and Ghoul was giving her a small, reassuring smile. Though he looked relived to see her just alive. His eyes traveled to the bruise on her forehead and his eyes snapped to Party's, but the redhead was glaring at the floor.

The Doctor also noticed the bruise. "T'at wasn' ther' when I treated yeh." He commented gruffly. Riot shrugged and she could almost see the holes the redhead was burning into the floor.

"I was thrashing and screaming quite a bit from what Ghoul here tells me." She replied as evenly as she could. The Doctor's eyes flickered to Party, still drilling holes in the floor with his eyes. Then rested on the black-haired Killjoy.

Ghoul noticed the rest of the room staring at him and shrugged. "Yeah. I guess so." Everyone else didn't press it but Riot could tell the Doctor wasn't fooled and Ghoul was still trying to figure out what was going on.

Riot twiddled her thumbs awkwardly, trying to ignore the looks the rest of the Killjoys were sending her.

"How's your eye?" A blonde piped up. Her eyes darted to him and she shrugged,

"Throbbing." The room fell quiet again. And Missile wasn't having any of it.

"Well?" She huffed, her hands on her hips and her bottom lip poked out in a pout. "Is Riot apart of the Killjoys or not?" The Doctor rolled his eyes, but the affection in his eyes for the little girl let them know he wasn't annoyed.

"Fine. We vote." He cleared his throat. "All in fav'r of lettin' Rio, he'r, stay?" The blonde from earlier, raised his hand and passed her a kind smile but quickly passed back into a poker face. Ghoul quickly put his hand up, Missile was practically bouncing around the room, letting everyone know what she wanted. And another guy in a helmet raised his hand.

He shrugged. "Missile loves you. Clearly there must be a reason?" Riot could tell from his voice that the guy was a teenager and he was most likely gay. She gave him a small give of thanks.

The DJ spoke up again, humor rumbled in his deep voice. "Don' wanna h'r ta stay?"

Party and a Killjoy with an afro raised their hands tiredly, the answer already obvious. Missile Kid screamed happily and threw herself at the teenage girl. "Finally!" She yelped. "Another girl!" Riot smiled and ran a hand through her soft curls affectionately.

"Well we can't leave you to fend for yourself in a house full of boys, now can we?"

The redhead angrily got up and stormed out of the room, followed by the afro-ed man, though he was less dramatic and looked more like he was trying to calm Party down more than anything. Riot ignored them as the gay teen removed his helmet. Bright blue eyes accompanied by a mop of raven hair met her eye. He smiled at her,

"Welcome to the Killjoys." She grinned.

**END OF BOOK 1: NEXT BOOK TWO: BULLETPROOF HEART. Warning for future book: torture and rape and other horrible things. Because things are about to get dark.**

**Stick around?**

**TBATD**


	9. Sequel Is Up

Hey, guys, it's not a chapter, because, well Danger Days is done. It was only part 1 of 6. But I'm posting this so that anyone who was following the story knows that part 2, Bulletproof Heart is now out.

Hope you stick around :


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